It would
make you weep if I were able to tell you what that was like, it was
so beautiful and true and lovely. But this is something like the
words of its song:
The stars are spinning their threads, And the clouds are the dust
that flies, And the suns are weaving them up For the time when the
sleepers shall rise.
The ocean in music rolls, And gems are turning to eyes, And the
trees are gathering souls For the day when the sleepers shall rise.
The weepers are learning to smile, And laughter to glean the sighs;
Burn and bury the care and guile, For the day when the sleepers
shall rise.
oh, the dews and the moths and the daisy red, The larks and the
glimmers and flows! The lilies and sparrows and daily bread, And
the something that nobody knows!
The princess stopped, her wheel stopped, and she laughed. And her
laugh was sweeter than song and wheel; sweeter than running brook
and silver bell; sweeter than joy itself, for the heart of the
laugh was love.
'Come now, Curdie, to this side of my wheel, and you will find me,'
she said; and her laugh seemed sounding on still in the words, as
if they were made of breath that had laughed.
Curdie obeyed, and passed the wheel, and there she stood to receive
him! - fairer than when he saw her last, a little younger still,
and dressed not in green and emeralds, but in pale blue, with a
coronet of silver set with pearls, and slippers covered with opals
that gleamed every colour of the rainbow.
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